Paris-Nicole? So yesterday. Jennifer-Angelina? Who cares anymore.
Looks like we’re so starved for juicy celebrity spats here in the US that Stephen Colbert had to poke around Bollywood to find a good one. Amitabh vs. Shah Rukh: Whose side are YOU on? After analyzing all the facts, Colbert finally picked one.
If you want to skip the rest of Colbert’s insightful, thought-provoking commentary and get right to the (hilarious) masala, jump ahead to the point where there’s 1:51 left in the clip.
Be still, my beating dil.
Looks like the sexiest man in the world has his eye set on conquering Mumbai. Yes, ladies (and gents who might be interested for whatever reason), it seems George Clooney has been bitten by the Bollywood Bug.
Could we someday see the sexiest man alive shaking a leg for an hour or four in “Jab Kabhi Kabhi Kuch Kuch Ho Na Ho to Dhoom Machake Alvida Na Kehna Munnabhai” (JKKKKHNHTDMANKM for short) or some other such spectacle? Watch out, Shah Rukh.
Evidently Nars (the company responsible for some seriously awesome lip gloss) has a new lipstick shade out: “Hindu.”
I wonder what “Catholic” looks like.
Animals have mating calls; we have mating couture. Who knew? Fellas – now when you notice your ladyfriend all dolled up a bit more than normal, well, don’t say we didn’t warn ya.
So, like, I recently heard some obscure line, not sure where it’s from or anything, but I think it goes a little something like this:
“I’ve had it with these motherf***ing snakes on this motherf***ing plane!”
So I decided I liked it so much I’m going to trademark it. Cool? And I don’t care how badass you are, you can’t use it. It’s mine.
As I roam the pee-stained streets of Manhattan (reference this for more details on that subject), I often speculate about whether there are more bicycle delivery guys on this cramped island than there are people. Usually, I escape being mauled by at least 14 of these specimens even as I ponder them.
My official plea to bicycle delivery boys across New York (and beyond):
Please don’t kill me. Don’t fancy yourself a hero on a makeshift two-wheeled ambulance set to save the day with your expeditious delivery of kung-pao chicken. No amount of saag paneer is worth me losing my life. The earth as we know it will not cease to exist if you try riding in the direction of the traffic just once, I promise.
As I reflect on today’s three near-misses at the hands of 75 mph 5-foot speed demons, it’s starting to make sense to me why they’re beginning to outnumber pedestrians. Soon there will be delivery dudes galore – but no one to deliver to.
Think about it, fellas. And walk safely, friends.
So, dear readers, believe it or not, Divanee isn’t actually the only magazine in my life: My full-time gig also has me editing and writing my life away at a magazine here in NYC. So last week, my editor at my day job (ie, not Miral-the-great-Sattar) approaches me to tell me she wants me to write a cover story.
In magazine-speak, this is a HUGE deal.
I’m all giddy and excited, eagerly awaiting more information on my most major assignment yet. I’d never heard of the subject before, but who cares. “She’s a model-turned-author,” my editor tells me, before promising to get me a copy of her latest book to prep before I go ahead with the interview.
So yesterday, she hands me the book. The title? “The One: Finding Soul Mate Love and Making It Last.”
You have got to be kidding me.
Such is my life: a conglomerate of cruel jokes; an amalgamation of ironies. I need some Cheetos.
The CVS ExtraCare Card has been a source of fascination for me ever since its inception. I eagerly wait as they print out my receipt, hoping for the elusive "$4 off your next purchase of $20 or more" coupon so I can go right back into the store to stock up on bodywash and cotton swabs and candy. Over the years I've bought far more gum, dental floss, and eyeliner than I could ever possibly need, just because my receipts enticed me with 50-cents-off or buy-one-get-one-free offers. I am SUCH a desi sometimes.
Some people are a bit freaked out by how the register spits you out coupons based on your current purchases, so they're fine-tuned toward the kinds of things you might like. But I always thought it makes sense – I don't need $2 off of Rogaine, so I'd rather have some balding uncle be the lucky recipient of such a deal. But when I'm buying some new eyeshadow, a coupon for eye makeup remover might prove to be a friendly reminder.
I've always been a big fan of the CVS ExtraCare card. Until this week, that is.
So on Monday I run to CVS for a late afternoon pick-me-up, and head to the register carrying a big bag of Cheetos.
My coupon? $2 off diet pills.
I hate you, CVS ExtraCare Card.